I'll Try to Picture Me Without You But I Can't
by songdreamer2016
Summary: "No is no, Hiro, even with the puppy eyes." Tadashi said firmly. His brother turned to pout at him, muttering, "Killjoy." The exhibition hall is on fire, and the neurocranial transmitter is still inside. Tadashi refuses to let Hiro venture into the fire to get it, but Hiro goes anyway. Alive!Tadashi AU. [Twin-fic to So Much More by New and Old.]
1. Things We Lost to the Flames

*After reading this chapter, go read chapter one of **New and Old**'s Twin-fic called _So Much More_, set in Hiro's POV. Link is on my profile.

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><p><strong>I'll Try to Picture Me Without You But I Can't<strong>

Chapter 1 - _Things We Lost to the Flames_

_(*Disclaimer: I do not own Big Hero 6 or any of its characters.)_

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><p>The night was clear, and Tadashi felt like flying.<p>

Beside him, his brother was as exuberant. The boy's eyes were wide and brilliant, and his mouth was stretched into a gap-toothed smile. "I did it!" whooped Hiro, pumping his fist into the air.

"You did," agreed Tadashi, grin as wide as his brother's. "Fist bump?"

Hiro obliged, and the two bumped fists. "_Ka-poww!_"

After watching Hiro bounce on his feet, Tadashi closed his eyes, pride bubbling in his chest. He had resisted the urge to start whooping and jumping up and down with arms in the air after the presentation - as he _was_ the mature one, after all - but Hiro had done it!

Hiro, his baby brother - the boneheaded, irritating, unbelievable _genius_ - had wowed an entire audience with his amazing technology, and Tadashi felt like shouting from the top of the San Fransokyo Bridge.

Unable to contain himself further, Tadashi reached out and snagged his brother. "Come here, you," he gushed, lifting Hiro off his feet. Spinning him around, Tadashi raised Hiro into the air before wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. "You complete and utter _genius!_"

"Gah, gross! G-get off, you nerd!" Hiro said, immediately squirming in Tadashi's hold.

Ignoring how Hiro wriggled in his arms, Tadashi squeezed him tighter. "I am," he said, "_so_ proud of you."

Face shoved against Tadashi's shirt, Hiro groaned. "You're so embarrassing!" he hissed, trying to elbow Tadashi away. He squeaked as Tadashi's hug tightened. "Can't. _Breathe_." Hiro moved around a bit more, contorting his arms to attack Tadashi's ribs.

Tadashi endured several pokes, then grimaced, releasing Hiro as his sides twinged with pain. "Okay, okay. No hugs." He rubbed his ribs ruefully. "Your elbows are lethal."

"Whatever," his brother grumbled, taking several breaths of air and then brushing the hair out of his eyes. Tadashi watched with an amused air; then, an idea struck him. A mischievous smile tugging on his lips, he stepped closer to the preteen.

Hiro saw him coming and paused, pointing a finger warningly. He evidently recognized the look on Tadashi's face. "No more hugs!"

With a nod, Tadashi replied, "Sure," and then reached out a hand, ruffling Hiro's hair. He couldn't resist - Hiro's reactions were _adorable_.

"Gah!" The younger boy ducked and avoided the hand. "_Tadashi!_" he said, frowning as Tadashi laughed. "Stop laughing!"

Smothering his laugh and eyes crinkling at the edges with mirth, Tadashi raised his hands in surrender. "All right, all right, I'll stop." His smile softened. "But you were amazing. And I'm proud of you."

"Yeah, yeah," Hiro muttered, shuffling his feet in embarrassment. His cheeks were a light pink, barely noticeable in the dim light.

Tadashi's smile widened, and he fought to keep down another chuckle; for a fourteen-year-old genius, his brother was remarkably shy.

As if he could hear Tadashi's thoughts, Hiro glared at him and flushed a bit more. "And stop that! It's embarrassing!" Anxious to hide his red face, Hiro huffed and pulled up the hood of his jacket over his head, zipping the jacket all the way up to his neck; he pulled the material up over his mouth to hide the bottom half of his face.

The resulting view was so _Hiro_ that Tadashi burst out laughing, giving his brother a pat on the head. _I need a camera_, he thought, listening with amusement as Hiro grumbled into his jacket. "Come on, genius, let's go," Tadashi said, voice light. He gave Hiro a nudge. "Aunt Cass and the others are waiting." _Maybe I can ask Honey to sneak me some photos with her phone... _

The two made their way to the parking lot, easily falling into their routine bickering. They tossed good-natured insults back and forth, the nicknames ranging from _bonehead_ to _nerd. _Other than the occasional poke or nudge to the ribs, Tadashi refrained from glomping his brother again.

After a particular grumble from Hiro, though - "Guess I'll be joining you at your _nerd school_," - Tadashi pretended to take offense and playfully tugged Hiro's hood down. His brother jerked to a stop with surprise, and then, after a second, yanked Tadashi's hat off his head in retaliation.

_The little_ - Narrowing his eyes, Tadashi locked gazes with Hiro, indulging in a brief staring contest before breaking out into a wide grin and lunging towards his brother. Hiro, anticipating Tadashi's attack, danced out of reach, impish grin in place and waving the captured hat above his head.

The bickering soon dissolved into a game of keep-Tadashi's-hat-away, and Tadashi began to chase after Hiro, determined to tackle his little brother into another bear hug. Hiro had gotten a head start, but was slowing down. The genius spent too much of his time inside to excel in athletics, even with the karate lessons, and Tadashi easily kept up with him, sing-songing as he went, "Bear hug... bear hug..."

Soon Tadashi had successfully captured the elusive preteen, and wrapped Hiro into a headlock. Growling playfully, Tadashi said, "So... what did you call me, bonehead?"

Hiro stuck his tongue out at him. "I called you a _nerd!_"

_Well, he asked for it. _"Oh yeah? Well, since _you'll_ be attending the nerd school in a month," Tadashi tickled Hiro, and the boy yelped, trying to escape Tadashi's fingers. "You're _also_ a nerd, _nerd_." He knew that Hiro was extremely sensitive under his arms and on his sides, and attacked accordingly.

"Gahahahaha!" choked out Hiro, wriggling away from Tadashi. "Okay, okay, I give!"

Tadashi paused, but kept his hands where they were. _No way I'm letting you get away_ that_ easily._ "What's Rule 96 of the Hamada Bros?"

Mouth gaping, Hiro looked incredulously at his brother. "Seriously? You want me to sa-AHH!" He yelled, as Tadashi resumed his attack. "Aha, ah! Uh, un, _uncle!_" Hearing the word, Tadashi stopped, and Hiro sagged in his arms, groaning. "I feel like I'm going to die," he said.

"You'll be fine," Tadashi replied, patting Hiro's head and setting his hat over his brother's unruly hair. They had stopped not too far away from the parking lot, and Tadashi could make out the forms of Aunt Cass and his friends chatting by Wasabi's car. He smiled softly at the sight - it was nice to see everyone he cared about in the same place. _Including the bonehead, of course_, Tadashi thought fondly, eyeing the hatted, messy-haired genius skipping beside him.

Hiro caught his gaze, and grinned; his eyes were positively _sparkling_.

Tadashi ruffled his hair again.

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><p>He and Hiro were about to enter the entrance of the parking lot when a shrill bell rang through the still night air. Tadashi turned to the sound, brow furrowed as he saw a column of smoke rising into the air. <em>Isn't that...?<em>

"What is it?" Hiro asked, craning his neck to see what Tadashi was looking at. Wordlessly, he took off Tadashi's hat and handed it back, rising on tiptoe to try and see what was going on.

"Fire alarm," Tadashi answered absently, accepting the hat and setting it back on his head. "Come on - and stay close." He placed a hand on Hiro's shoulder, herding his brother in front of him as they made their way towards the exhibition hall. There was a crowd growing near the steps, and Tadashi didn't want to lose Hiro in the throng of people; the preteen's height made him almost impossible to spot in a group of adults.

They arrived at the edges of the crowd, and Tadashi tapped on a shoulder. The person turned to look at him. "What's going on?" he asked, watching smoke rise from a far corner of the roof of the building.

"A fire broke out," came the reply. "The fire department's been called."

"And they better get here quickly," someone added. "There are a _lot_ of flammable things in there."

"Yeah," Tadashi said distractedly, eyes on the trail of smoke in the air. Beside him, Hiro gasped, and he turned to look at his little brother. "What is it?"

"My neural-cranial transmitter!" Hiro said, patting down his pockets, turning them inside-out. "It's still in there!" He took a step forward, but Tadashi jerked him back, snagging the hood on his jacket.

"Oh no, you don't," he said determinedly. "There's a fire. Hopefully it'll survive the flames, but if it doesn't, you'll just have to make another one. I'm not letting you go inside."

"It's just a small fire," protested Hiro, trying to tug his jacket free. "And it's going to take me another_ month_ to gather up enough materials to make another neural-cranial transmitter!"

Tadashi shook his head. "No is no, Hiro," he said firmly. His brother turned to pout at him. On any other occasion, Tadashi would have folded to that particular expression on his brother's face - they both knew that Aunt Cass was a sucker for it - but the seriousness of the situation firmed his resolve. "Even with the puppy eyes," he added.

His brother pouted for real and rolled his eyes. "Killjoy," he muttered, slumping in Tadashi's stern grip.

One eye on Hiro and the other on the building, Tadashi kept a firm hold on the hood, well aware of Hiro's tendency to slip away if he looked away for even a second. He wasn't going to chance a lapse in attention, especially not with a fire spreading in the building before them.

But Tadashi had forgotten to factor in Hiro's clever, clever brain.

Before he could process what his brother was doing, Hiro had unzipped himself from his jacket and slipped out of it, leaving the item of clothing in Tadashi's grasp.

He gaped at the now-empty jacket. "Wha-?" Tadashi looked up to see Hiro ducking into the space between two people. _He did not just - _ "_Hiro!_"

"Sorry, bro!" Hiro called over his shoulder, weaving through the crowd and heading for the doors of the exhibition hall. "I'll be in and out, I promise!"

"Unbelievable," Tadashi muttered, shaking his head and staring at the jacket hanging limply in his hand. He stepped forward and struggled through the crowd, apologizing when he bumped into people. "Excuse me - coming through," he said, wincing as he not-so-gently jostled yet another person.

Muttering under his breath at his brother's complete _idiocy_, Tadashi sidestepped a few more people and peered over the people in front of him. He was almost to the main doors, but Hiro was nowhere in sight.

"Sorry, excuse me!" Under his breath, he added, "Hiro Hamada, _when I get my hands on you_..." One final squeeze later and he was free of the crowd, hat askew on his head and blazer rumpled. Gasping for breath, he scanned the entrance for Hiro, heart sinking as he realized that his brother was probably already inside.

Ignoring the shouts of the people behind him, Tadashi broke out into a run and raced up the stairs, frantically yelling his brother's name as he went. Easily taking two steps at a time, he reached the top and stretched out an arm for the doors, intending to pull them open and race inside -

But he was sent flying back as the building exploded, the shock wave shattering the glass doors and leaving him sprawled on the ground on the bottom of the steps, out of breath.

People were screaming, and there was general chaos, but Tadashi only had eyes for the fire blazing in front of him, transfixed by the dancing orange flames.

Slowly he registered the ringing in his ears and the sore, achy skin on his face and hands; coupled with the dull ache at the back of his head, the ringing disoriented him and made it difficult for Tadashi to regain his balance.

Placing a hand on the ground to steady himself, the dazed young man shakily sat up and took a fortifying breath, coughing as it caught in his throat. Shards of glass cut into his palm, but the pain was infinitesimal, tiny shreds of sensory information lost in the wake of other, louder stimuli.

Someone grabbed his arm and helped him up, exclaiming, "Dude, that was close! Two more seconds and you would've..." The person went on, but Tadashi didn't hear him; the words were a buzz in his ears.

Stumbling forward, he took a staggering step towards the blazing doors. His vision was spinning and he could barely walk, but he had to get back inside... He had to find Hiro.

"Hey, dude, where're you -? What are you doing?!"

"Let me go," Tadashi muttered, taking another step and tugging at his entrapped arm. "My little brother's in there... I have to get him!"

The person sputtered and pulled him back again. "Wha - are you crazy? Stop, the fire'll kill you! Wait for the fire department!"

Ignoring the person's words, Tadashi wrenched his arm out of his hold and took two more steps, hand outstretched - but several sets of arms grabbed a hold of him and kept him in place, steady and unyielding as stone.

"Let me go!" He choked, struggling to break his friends' grips on him. "Hiro's in there - _Hiro!_"

Their arms held him tight, wrapped around his arms and his waist as he gasped and fought, straining towards the doors. What were they doing? They _knew_ how much Hiro meant to him! How could they keep him from saving his little brother? Every second of Tadashi being held back was another second lost from what little time he had left to save Hiro, and they _wouldn't let him go!_

"We can't do anything, Tadashi," one of them - Honey? - said.

_No... Not Hiro, please..._ He shook his head, blinking away tears. "No, we _can!_ He's fine, I just need to find him, there's still time to get him out - _get off me!_"

Trying to break away, Tadashi twisted his torso to the side, dislodging one or two pairs of arms. He saw his chance and took a step, but his friends grabbed him at the last moment, stopping him in his tracks. "I said _get off!_ My brother - I need to - Hiro!"

Dimly, Tadashi saw the flashing sirens of an ambulance and the fire brigade out of the corner of his eye, getting closer, but he could onlyfocus on the rush and roar of the fire along with his own, too-loud heartbeat, _thu-thump, thu-thump_, in his ears.

A groaning sound split the air, and the stone columns supporting the roof cracked and fell to the ground, shaking the concrete underneath his feet. Numb with shock, Tadashi felt his stomach drop as pieces of the roof began to fall; he didn't resist when his friends pulled him back to safety.

But then a particularly loud crash jerked him back to attention, and he yelled with horror when the building collapsed in on itself, unable to do anything as the flames leaped higher into the smoke-filled sky.

"NO!_ HIRO!_"

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><p>AN: To followers of this story: it's not really a new chapter, but a better version of the old one. I felt like the first version had been a little too rushed, so I went back and edited things. Also, there were a several parts I had to tweak after discussing it with my beta. As a result, though, I think this version is better thought through, plot-wise and language-wise.

To any newcomers: Welcome! As stated in the summary, this is an Alive!Tadashi story... which means it's also a Dead!Hiro story... (To those who have read the twin-fic: shh!) This started out as a result of me and my beta denying Tadashi's death in the movie (like everyone else in this fandom), and it went downhill from there. We channeled our sadness into storylines that had Tadashi is still alive and breathing, and the plot bunnies took over.

Also, my beta, New and Old, has written a twin-fic to this story - it's called _So Much More._ We finally got around to collaborating on our stories... Yay, I guess? Go check her story out! It is recommended that you read the stories together, chapter by chapter (they will be updated at the same time) for the maximum amount of feels.

Hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading, and please review!


	2. Shattered into Ash

*After reading this chapter, go read chapter two of **New and Old**'s Twin-fic called _So Much More_, set in Hiro's POV. Link is on my profile.

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><p><strong>I'll Try to Picture Me Without You But I Can't<strong>

Chapter 2 - _Shattered into Ash_

_(*Disclaimer: I do not own Big Hero 6 or any of its characters.)_

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><p>It was raining.<p>

Tadashi stared blankly at the ceiling, bags under his bloodshot eyes. Unmoved since the fire three days ago, his green blazer lay rumpled on the floor, still smelling faintly of smoke. His clothes were surrounded by several shredded pieces of paper, the remnants of a newspaper he'd been unable to stomach. A cooling plate of food - that day's dinner - sat on the windowsill. Outside, the sky was grey, and water dripped against the window, the humidity fogging up the glass.

_Patter, pat-pat._

Hiro hated - had hated - rain. He'd always complain - _complained_ - that the rain made the air muggy and feel like pea soup, scrunching up his nose as he dragged the damp tendrils of hair off of his forehead. And if there was a thunderstorm, a bad one, Tadashi would wake up in the middle of the night to find Hiro - face white and hands trembling - next to him, and he would roll over, wrapping his arms around his brother as Hiro snuggled closer...

Swallowing, Tadashi closed his eyes and covered them with a hand. Other than the sound of the rain against the windowpane, the room was unnervingly quiet, and his heart spasmed at the complete silence, protesting against the utter _wrongness _of it all. The room wasn't supposed to be silent. Hiro didn't _do_ quiet.

_If only I'd been a little faster, had kept Hiro from going inside -_

Cutting off that thought before it could get anywhere, Tadashi shifted to his side, staring across the room at Hiro's cluttered (_e__mpty, quiet, _empty!) desk. Perched on the edge, yellow smiley face drooping to the side, Megabot stared back, somehow looking as lost as Tadashi felt.

_Do you miss him? _He wanted to ask. _Does it hurt, to think of him? _

Tadashi was familiar with grief, ever since the accident eleven years ago, when his parents had died, leaving him, Hiro, and Aunt Cass to somehow be a family together. The pain from back then had been enough to make him wish he could curl up and sleep forever, but he'd been able to weather it, overcome it.

The very thought of trying to do the same this time around threatened to drown him.

Because this time, unlike before, Tadashi didn't have his brother to fill his thoughts and worry him constantly. Hiro wasn't here to annoy and bother him to near distraction, with his hare-brained ideas and sudden bursts of genius that sent Mochi flying through the air. There was no messy-haired, gap-toothed brain child that had a million and one questions that Tadashi couldn't even begin to answer, no sassy, bratty, self-confident preteen who had everything and nothing figured out.

Hiro was gone, and Tadashi could feel the ache of it down to his very bones.

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><p>Eventually the silence became too loud to bear, and Tadashi got up, dragging a hand through his hair and down his face. He made himself somewhat presentable and went down the stairs, only pausing, as an afterthought, to grab the white bundle peeking out from under his bed and shoving it into his satchel.<p>

Slipping out the back door and closing it behind him, he took a deep breath and exhaled, his breath fogging as it left his mouth. Outside it was cold, Tadashi shivered, shifting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. Opening the umbrella he had in one hand, he stepped out from under the back porch and into the alley behind the house. With his shoulders hunched against the cold, he made his way through the puddles, willing to go wherever his feet would take him.

Sooner (_or was it later?_) Tadashi was walking down a path of worn, well-trod stones, stopping to gaze up at the familiar bamboo sliding door. Faint shouts and sounds of sparring drifted through the thin material, and he closed his eyes and drank in the well-known sounds and sights of his old karate dojo.

He was about to take off his shoes and enter when the door slid open, and Tsuyoshi-sensei looked down at him, one eyebrow cocked.

"Well, well," the man said. "If it isn't Tadashi-kun." Tsuyoshi-sensei's lips were curled into a rare smile.

"_Gonbangwa, _Tsuyoshi-sensei," Tadashi greeted, bowing. He straightened, and smiled softly. "It's been a while."

Tsuyoshi-sensei snorted. "Of course it has. What are you doing, not coming in? Hurry up. You're letting in the humidity." With that, the man turned and disappeared into the dojo.

Smothering a laugh at the actions of his sensei, Tadashi placed his shoes in the shoe rack and his umbrella in the stand, stepping into the dojo and closing the door behind him.

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><p>Tadashi changed and stepped out onto the <em>tatami<em> mats, reveling in the feel beneath his feet. He had missed this, the dojo with its quiet interior and sense of peace. Tadashi could feel some of the weight sloughing off his heavy shoulders. Rolling them, he bent over to touch his toes, drinking in the burn forming at the back of his calves. He stayed in that position for several seconds and slowly came back up, fully intending to stretch properly before even thinking of doing anything.

Tsuyoshi-sensei watched him stretch, occasionally directing an arm or pushing Tadashi a little past his limits. The routine was familiar, and Tadashi soon adjusted into its rhythm, going along as if he had never left the dojo in the first place.

He finished the exercise, and turned to Tsuyoshi-sensei, ready and expectant. But the man lifted a hand, and pointed to a corner filled with old training dummies.

"Let out some steam while I finish up my class," he said, with harsh words and gentle eyes. "No use trying to spar when you're upset." His eyes flicked towards Tadashi's bandaged hands. "No hands, just feet."

Tadashi blinked, then nodded, bowing slightly before making his way to the dummies. Shifting into a position he knew like the back of his hand, Tadashi closed his eyes and exhaled. After a moment, his eyes snapped open, and he spun and kicked, the dummy shaking with a muffled _thump_.

Something seemed to break free in Tadashi's chest, and he took a step forward and drove his other foot into the material. He kicked, again and again, until he was pummeling the dummy with the full brunt of his anger and frustration and sorrow. Anger at his inability to do anything, the frustration of not being able to _move on_, and the deep, soul-rending sorrow that kept him up at night and haunted his waking moments.

Tadashi kept kicking until his legs began to tire, stopping only when his calves were burning with the strain and he was sure that he couldn't take another step without collapsing. He stood there in front of the dummy, arms hanging by his sides and eyes wet with tears, taking shaky breaths as he tried to calm himself down.

Behind him, Tsuyoshi-sensei was watching from where he'd positioned himself after dismissing his class, arms crossed and absolutely still. Tadashi waited for Tsuyoshi-sensei to speak up, to snort and make a dry comment about "youth these days"... But the man did not say anything, and just stood there, motionless and silent.

Tadashi couldn't see the expression on his sensei's face, and felt the back of his neck heat up as he realized the extent of his display. He tried to dig up a glib answer about being under stress, but the words froze on his tongue. Instead, he stayed there, eyes on the dummy, staring but not seeing anything at all.

"The funeral's tomorrow," Tadashi finally blurted out. His hands were clenched, his knuckles as white as his_gi_. "They want me... to give a speech."

Tsuyoshi-sensei stirred, finally moved, and Tadashi could feel his comforting bulk beside him, the well-known weight of the man's hand resting on his shoulder. "And you don't think you can do it," Tsuyoshi-sensei said, voice gentle.

Tadashi closed his eyes and fought the urge to start crying again. "No, I don't."

* * *

><p>The next day, the rain didn't stop.<p>

Tadashi had managed to keep a polite - if forced - smile on his face, and had blinked rapidly through the various phrases of "I'm sorry for your loss," and "He would have changed the world." At the headstone, he had stumbled through his speech with only a few too-long pauses, breathing through his nose as he had tried not to cry.

He hadn't broken down in front of the guests, and had somehow gotten his words past the lump that seemed to be permanently lodged in his throat. Looking at anything but at his brother's headstone (_no body to bury, nothing but an empty casket and an urn full of the building's ashes_), he had kept the depth of his grief buried under his sad smile and his quiet words, waiting for a moment alone to let himself slip.

But the moment couldn't come quickly enough. There had still been the reception to go through, and he had taken the lead, staying strong for Aunt Cass, who had been sobbing on someone's shoulder. Faces had passed by and more platitudes had been offered: several classmates, some teachers who still remembered his brother from his days in high school (_"He was such a bright boy,"_), and a few of Aunt Cass' friends and coworkers that surrounded his aunt with short but heartfelt hugs.

Tadashi had been struck afresh with the realization that his brother didn't have - _hadn't_ had - a lot of friends.

Finally, as the last group of people closed the door behind themselves (_Wasabi and Honey and GoGo and Fred, with wide, sad eyes_), Tadashi exhaled, tension draining from his shoulders until he sagged, boneless and legs weak, against the doorway. He leaned his forehead against the door, fighting to catch his breath.

After a moment, he pushed himself off, plodding up the steps with legs as heavy as lead and loosening his tie as he went.

Hiro's gap-toothed smile beamed from the pictures on the wall and made his heart ache; Tadashi swallowed and looked away.

Aunt Cass was already upstairs, on the couch in front of the TV, with another box of tissues perched on the seat beside her. Mochi was cuddled in her lap, and the cat purred as she stroked him, her cheeks tear-stained and eyes puffy.

Walking over, Tadashi sat down next to her, wordlessly offering her his arms. Aunt Cass dove into them with another strangled sob, and he rubbed circles into her back as she babbled, listening as her sentences jumbled together into an indecipherable mix, the words _Hiro_ and_ baby_ surfacing more than once. The desperation in her voice made the lump grow heavier in his throat, and he swallowed again. Breathing through his nose and closing his burning eyes, Tadashi just hugged his aunt closer.

* * *

><p>Later, after he had helped Aunt Cass to her room and gave her one last hug and a quiet <em>goodnight<em>, he went back downstairs, cleaning and locking up. He made sure that the blinds were closed, that Mochi's litter-box was clean, and exhaustedly climbed the last few steps to their (_his now, and only his_) room.

He closed the door behind him, and then the complete and utter _silence_ in the room rushed to crush him, making him stumble on his way to the bed at the smaller side of the room (_"I get to choose first because I'm the youngest!"_). The grief he had kept down broke free and _surged_; Tadashi stood and shook from it, shoulders trembling, before crumpling to the floor, hand pressed against his heart.

The reality of the last few days came slamming into him with the force of a typhoon, and the room was all at once suddenly too big, too _empty_ without the constant presence of his brother. Hiro was gone, and Tadashi began to cry, racking out heart-wrenching sobs interposed with sharp gasps of breath.

He had not cried like this since the horrible night his parents had died, when he had bawled with all the fear and sadness of a eleven-year-old boy whose parents had been ripped away from him. The policeman had come up to Aunt Cass' door with a sad look on his face and with Hiro asleep in the backseat, and Tadashi had refused to believe him, had screamed denials and cried for his parents who hadn't come back, who weren't going to (_"I'm sorry, kid, but they're gone."_)

This time, Tadashi cried with the anger of a sibling left behind, brokenly yelling curses at the floorboards beneath his fists. He screamed until he was hoarse, sobbing for Hiro and his parents and at the unfairness of it all; his tears fell and stained the wood, the darkened area spreading with each strangled cry.

Moments passed (_Hours? Days? He didn't know_), and he stayed there on his knees, forehead against the floor and fists on either side of his head. The tears continued to fall, and he continued to slam his fists into the floor and curse his own stupidity until he had no more tears and no more breath. Eventually, his fists bounced weakly off the wooden floorboards and curled uselessly by his head, limp with sorrow and exhaustion.

Like that, Tadashi grieved, crushed with the heavily absence of his brother, of _Hiro_, crying as the world went on without him.

* * *

><p>No one had the energy to do anything.<p>

Honey was uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn in a corner, Bunsen burners extinguished and wearing darker, more subdued colors. Fred sat on his beanbag, head tilted back and staring at the ceiling, his long face seemingly stretching to touch the floor. Wasabi kept going around to organize and re-organize his workspace; he rearranged the books in his small bookshelf, then came back to change the order, switching from alphabetical to author's last names to color-coded to decreasing in size -

Until GoGo snapped and yelled at him, throwing a mini-disc at his head and telling him to stop or she would go over there and personally _burn_ all his books, _so help her_. He shrank back at her outburst and nodded, sinking into a chair and fiddling with his tools instead.

When Tadashi had wandered into the lab with the metaphorical black cloud ghosting over his head that morning, the others had known immediately that he wasn't okay. They'd stayed back as the students they shared the lab with came up to him and offered consolations, only stepping up and subtly turning people away once they noticed the strained look on Tadashi's face.

People had taken the hint; one by one, the other students suddenly remembered things they had to do and appointments they had to keep, each one zipping out until the four were the only ones left, watching with heavy hearts as Tadashi quietly thanked them and plodded into his workspace, making the glass opaque a moment later.

The four hated to see their friend like that, quiet and withdrawn with bags under his eyes as he brushed off their questions, saying that he was fine. They could tell he was lying by the small, almost undetectable downward tilt of his mouth and the set of his jaw. But Tadashi had laughed it off - no one thought to point out how brittle his laughter sounded - and had retreated to seclude himself. They had let him go, unable to bring themselves to stop him.

Hiro had been everything to Tadashi, and the four knew that, could remember the long, one-sided conversations they had had with the older Hamada. Tadashi had waxed poetic about his little brother, spiels of _he's a complete bonehead but he's a_ genius, _I'm so proud of him_ surfacing often enough that laid-back, could-care-less GoGo had asked him (threatened him with a concussion) to stop. The young man's complete devotion and over-the-top protectiveness for his brother had been simultaneously humorous and admirable. So it was understandable that his grief ran deep.

It didn't help that they'd found out, several days before Hiro's funeral, that Professor Callaghan had been in the same building, and was thought to have perished in the flames along with Hiro. The student body had erected a memorial for the two victims in front of the ruins of the exhibition hall, the pictures encased in simple, wooden frames and surrounded by sticks of incense and flowers. In the pictures, Professor Callaghan smiled softly, and Hiro grinned, his mouth stretched out in his trademark, gap-toothed smile.

* * *

><p>After some time, Tadashi was jerked out of his forced concentration (<em>projects he needed to finish and final touches he needed to give to Baymax<em>) by a knock, and he got up and tapped the glass, clearing it to see who was on the other side. His friends waved at him, and he opened the door to let them in.

Tadashi dropped down onto his chair, and the others gathered around him. They didn't crowd, or pelt him or questions about his mental and emotional health. Tadashi was grateful for that - he'd had his fill of the questions that morning when people had stopped him in the halls and offered condolences.

His friends didn't pry. Instead, Wasabi took a step forward, a bundle in his hand.

"Here," the man said, handing him the bundle. Tadashi looked down to see Hiro's jacket, clean-pressed and fresh with no traces of smoke. "Thought you might want this back."

Tadashi accepted the offered article of clothing, running his fingers over the familiar cloth (_the feel of Hiro's hood slipping through his fingers_) and smiling weakly. "Thanks, Wasabi."

"No problem," his friend smiled. Then, haltingly, Wasabi reached into his pocket drawing something. "I... also found this in the pocket." He placed the object on top of the jacket. Tadashi blinked at it, and felt his stomach lurch. There, tied to a leather throng, was one of Hiro's microbots.

Wasabi yelped suddenly, rubbing his arm. "What was that for?" he hissed to GoGo, who had just punched him.

"Nice going, genius!" She hissed back. "You might have just made it _worse!_" In unison, they all turned to Tadashi, wary of his reaction.

But the young man just picked up the microbot-turned-necklace, examining it with a lost, wistful look on his face. His friends, sensing his need to be alone, chose this moment to quietly slip away. Honey, the last to leave, put a comforting hand on his shoulder before she left, and closed the door behind her, leaving Tadashi with his thoughts and his memories.

* * *

><p>Tadashi, elbow on his desk and hand under his chin, dangled the necklace in the air in front of him, moodily watching the microbot twirl.<p>

It had been Hiro's greatest idea, outshining any of his brother's previous inventions. And to think Hiro had gotten the inspiration from Megabot, the robot he'd taken bot-fighting... Tadashi still wasn't sure if that had been a coincidence, or if Hiro had deliberately based the microbots off Megabot to tick him off.

_Hiro..._

Shaking his head to dislodge gloomy thoughts, Tadashi dropped the microbot, letting it fall and bounce onto Hiro's jacket. _I need to do something_. Determined to distract himself, he twisted in his seat, pushing against the desk to roll across the room -

And promptly fell over onto the floor, knocking his head on the way down as one of the wheels caught on a stray scrap of paper and tipped the chair over.

_Brilliant, knucklehead_, he thought to himself, groaning and sitting up on the floor with a wince. _Brilliant._ Gingerly, he prodded at the growing bump at the back of his head, hissing at the pain. "Ow."

Under the bay window, the red box Tadashi had (figuratively) shed sweat and blood over _beeped_ and opened, the sound followed by a _pfffffsh_ of air as Baymax inflated to his full size. Tadashi watched as the white robot blinked, looked down at his feet, and stepped out of the containment unit, lifting one foot at a time. Several squeaks later, Baymax was in front of him, his black eyes whirring to focus on him.

"Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion," came the pleasant, soothing voice Tadashi had programmed into Baymax on the fifty-eighth test run. "I was alerted to the need for medical attention when you said, 'Ow.'" A chart with a series of faces flickered on the robot's chest. "On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?"

(_"Physical, or emotional?"_)

Tadashi smiled faintly and shook his head, righting the chair and sitting back down on it. "I'm fine, Baymax. The pain is a one, maybe even less."

The robot blinked at him, black dots winking in and out of sight. "My sensors indicate that you are suppressing your pain. I will scan you now."

Surprised, he lifted his hands in protest. "Wait, no, that isn't necessary -"

"Scan complete," Baymax said, and Tadashi rolled his eyes, a faint smile on his face. "You have sustained a minor head wound, which can be treated with an icepack." The robot handed him an icepack, and Tadashi took it, pressing it against his head as the robot continued. "The wounds on your hands are healing at an acceptable rate, and you will regain full mobility and range of motion if you continue to keep them cleaned and wrapped. I suggest going to the hospital and getting your stitches removed within this week."

At the reminder, Tadashi looked down at his hands, which were covered in bandages; underneath them, the stitches itched. He flexed his hands and felt the same listlessness that had stalked him all morning return, weighing down on his chest.

Baymax paused, and blinked. "Other assorted ailments are low serotonin levels, insomnia, and a lack of appetite. Your medical record shows no past history of serotonin deficiencies, and the nature of your current condition cannot be diagnosed accurately by my database. This is not a common occurrence. May I suggest a doctor's visit?"

Tadashi shook his head. "It's fine, Baymax. It isn't a medical condition." Dropping his hands back in his lap, he added, absently, "The only reason you can't come up with a treatment is because I programmed you for treatments for physical pain. I left out any procedures for psychological or emotional pain."

"I understand." Baymax considered him for a moment, then squeaked over to Tadashi's computer, placing a hand on it. "Please wait a moment."

"Wait, what are you - ?" Tadashi half-rose out of his seat, but Baymax was finished with whatever the robot had been doing before he could even take a step.

"Download complete," the robot announced. "New data has been incorporated into my healthcare matrix."

Tadashi's heart skipped a beat. _Wait, what?_ "New data for what?!"

The healthcare companion turned to look at him and tilted his head to the side. "In order to become a better healthcare companion, I have downloaded all the current information and research on the treatment of psychological and emotional injuries. In addition to that, I have also downloaded..." Baymax continued, but the robot's words fell to deaf ears.

_In order to become a better companion,_ thought Tadashi, reaching up and dragging a hand down his face, peering at Baymax with incredulous eyes, his hand over his mouth. _He's actually_ learning! Unbidden, his mouth stretched into a wide, ecstatic grin.

It was true that he had programmed the robot with the ability to grow and evolve, but to see it in action... He felt a deep, satisfying stab of pride and the urge to break out into another victory lap around the room.

_All those test runs paid off, in the end,_ he thought dazedly. _I can't wait to tell Hi-_

His thoughts screeched to a halt, and he blinked as his eyes stung.

"Your serotonin levels have dropped again," Baymax noted. "My updated database informs me that low serotonin levels can result from a long range of conditions, including, but not limited to: sadness, depression, or psychological trauma. May I inquire which category fits your current condition?"

Taken aback at the question, he stared at Baymax. "Sorry, what?"

"What seems to be the cause of your low levels of serotonin?" the robot reiterated, voice calm.

"Oh, um." Tadashi looked away, gaze skittering until it locked onto Hiro's jacket and the necklace on top of it. "...a death," he admitted, voice quiet. "The loss of someone close to me."

"I see." Baymax waddled forward. "Protocol requires that I offer consolation," the robot said, reaching out and lifting Tadashi out of his chair to engulf him in white, puffy arms. "There, there," Baymax said, patting Tadashi's head. "It will be alright."

Initially stiff with shock, Tadashi slowly relaxed into Baymax's arms, leaning to rest his cheek against the soft vinyl. "...Thanks, Baymax," he said, listening to the quiet hum of the robot's machinery.

"You are welcome," the robot replied. "May I inquire to whom it is you have lost?"

He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. "Yeah. It was... Hiro. My brother."

Baymax did not say anything for a moment, then commented, "I do not understand. Hiro was an average human being, about to flower into maturity through puberty." Tadashi choked in surprise at the unfortunate phrasing, slipping out of Baymax's embrace as he broke out into a coughing fit.

Stopping, Baymax tilted his head. "Are you alright?" he asked. "I can provide a cough drop should you require one -"

"It's fine," Tadashi gasped out. Sitting back down, he cleared his throat, nodding at the robot to tell him to continue. "...You were saying?"

Baymax blinked. "With the correct dietary restrictions and the occasional exercise, Hiro would have lived a long life."

Hearing that, Tadashi snorted. Hiro's diet, when meals were not provided, had mostly consisted of instant ramen and donuts from the café. And the genius had always hated exercise, only taking the karate lessons when Tadashi had threatened to hide all his robot parts...

His heart ached, and he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "You're right, Baymax. He should have lived a long life. But there was an... accident. A fire. And Hiro..." Tadashi felt his throat close up again, and ran his hand through his hair. "He didn't make it out."

A moment of silence passed as Baymax processed his words, no doubt integrating the new information into Hiro's medical profile and changing the boy's status to _Deceased_. "I understand. Your low serotonin levels are not as a result of sadness, but of grief," the robot concluded. "Diagnosis: personal loss. Treatment suggested: comfort and re-connection with close family and friends." A rotating circle appeared on Baymax's chest, before the image changed to show the faces of Tadashi's friends and Aunt Cass. "I will contact your friends and family now -"

"No, that's fine!" Tadashi yelped, springing out of his chair and pressing a hand against Baymax to cancel the call. "They're right outside," he told the robot. "I can talk to them later, so you don't have to do anything. Just... stay still." He exhaled, then narrowed his eyes as a thought struck him. Placing a hand on his chin, he considered the robot in front of him. Baymax tilted his head again.

"In fact, I think I'll make some changes to your programming," Tadashi decided. "I'd been thinking of upgrading you anyway, and now is better than never."_ And it'll keep me from moping,_ he added mentally.

"First of all," he twisted and grabbed an empty chip from the stack on his desk and pulled out a pen, scribbling _Etiquette 101_ on the label. "we need to do something about that bedside manner of yours - not everyone is open to spontaneous hugs, and we can't have you going around and making patients uncomfortable..." He waved the chip in the air to dry the ink, and slotted it into the computer, immediately getting to work.

Tadashi spent the next hour immersed in code, twisting and modifying lines of text, programming the appropriate responses to different actions, personal preferences, and the like. Every few minutes he put the chip into Baymax and asked the robot a few questions, scribbling down the potential problems in his notebook before taking out the chip and diving into the code again. During the whole process, Baymax, in his charging station, continued to inquire after his emotional state, frequently commenting on any changes in Tadashi's neurotransmitter levels.

He was in the middle of wrestling with a particularly stubborn line of text when there was a clatter of something in Baymax's vicinity. Tadashi turned distractedly to see Baymax out of his containment unit and holding Wasabi's necklace at an arm's length, eyes watching the microbot twitching at the end of its tether. After dismissing the action as unimportant - nothing was in the danger of exploding - Tadashi turned back to the chip, concentrating. It made sense that the microbot was moving, after all, because that was what Hiro had designed them to do -

_...Wait, what?_

He spun around again and Baymax looked up at him, saying, "The miniature robot is moving."

"It's called a microbot," Tadashi replied distractedly, eyes following the microbot's movements. He frowned. "That's not possible," he said. "The neural-cranial transmitter was destroyed in the fire, and that was the only thing that could make the microbots move... Can I see that?" Baymax handed the necklace over, and Tadashi held it up to the light, watching the microbot wriggle around.

"Must be broken," he mumbled after some consideration, giving the necklace back to the robot. "You can hold on to it for now, I guess," he said. A shadow passed over his face, and his lips turned down. "Not like there's anything I could to do fix it, anyway." With that, he turned back to the computer and the frustrating code.

"This microbot is one of Hiro's," Baymax said behind him.

Tadashi nodded as his eyes scanned through the text on the screen. "Yeah," he replied, finding a potential loophole and filling it, fingers tapping away at the keyboard. "It is." A part of his mind wondered how Baymax knew that Hiro had made the microbots, but he brushed the thought away, concentrated on the programming.

"It seems as if the microbot wants to go somewhere," Baymax commented, and Tadashi irritatedly pushed his bangs off his forehead.

"Why don't you follow it, then?" He muttered, deleting a few words and typing in others. This part of the code was important; it made sure Baymax didn't inadvertently insult anyone with his overall frankness, and it needed at least seven lines of text.

"Will finding out where the microbot wants to go improve your emotional state?"

Brow furrowed as he untangled several commands from each other, Tadashi didn't hear what the robot said, but waved a hand in general agreement. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure." _This_ part of the programming made sure that Baymax didn't overwhelm his patient with too much medical information, especially when the patient was in shock. Information overload didn't help patients suffering form PTSD, and Tadashi wanted to make sure Baymax's programming would prevent him from accidentally triggering a panic attack.

Someone tapped on the door, and he half-turned, eyes still glancing at the screen, saying, "Yeah?" with an edge of annoyance in his voice.

Wasabi was at the door, looking confused. He jerked a thumb behind him. "Man, you _do_ know that Baymax just walked out, right?"

At that statement, Tadashi turned completely. "What? Don't be silly, he's right... here..." The room was empty, and Tadashi shot out of his seat, programming forgotten. "Oh, _fudge_." He rushed past Wasabi, only snatching his key ring on the way out. GoGo stepped back to let him sprint by, raising an eyebrow as he nearly tripped over his feet.

"I could always give you a ride," she said, popping a bubble.

Over his shoulder, he shouted back, "Your bike doesn't have a backseat or any brakes!" At the door, Tadashi reached out a hand to pull it open when it swung open of its own accord and revealed Honey, who had pushed it from the other side.

Her face noticeably brightened when she saw how Tadashi had come out of his workspace, and she grabbed his shoulders, exclaiming, "Oh, you're out!" in a happy voice. She held him at arms length and swept her worried eyes over him. "Are you feeling better?" she asked.

_I really don't have time to deal with this right now! _With a half-smile, Tadashi removed her hands from his shoulders, avoiding her question and saying, "Sorry, Honey, gotta go; Baymax got out, I need to get him back before he gets run over by a truck, we'll talk later, okay?" Darting past his startled friend, Tadashi raced out the door, weaving through the crowd as he sprinted down the hall. Behind him, he thought he heard Honey tell him to be careful, but anything else she said was lost to the sound of his feet against the floor.

* * *

><p>Baymax wasn't particularly fast, and it shouldn't have been hard to keep up with him, but somehow, whenever Tadashi got close, the robot managed to do <em>something<em> that left him scrambling to keep up. He'd abandoned his moped in a nearby parking lot the moment Baymax had walked up the train station steps and into the mid-day crowd, opting to race after the robot on foot.

That was, however, far from the end of it. The robot jaywalked across the street and very nearly caused a pile-up; a car screeched and stopped, barely missing Tadashi by an inch. He cringed and hurried on, legs pumping as he raced off after Baymax, who was turning the corner and walking through a market, jostling people as he went -

Baymax's expansive sides knocked down a crate of oranges, and Tadashi stopped to help pick up a few, bowing and apologizing profusely to the fruit stall owner, who was an irritated old lady with white hair and wrinkled skin. The woman yelled at him in a mix of English and Chinese, waving a broom over her head with a furious look in her eye. Catching a glimpse of Baymax waddling off from out of the corner of his eye, Tadashi ducked her swing, bowed, and apologized one final time before sprinting off after Baymax.

...who was currently crossing the street. Again. The blare of a horn made Tadashi turn his head, and his stomach dropped as he saw the incoming tram that was headed directly for a collision with a certain inflatable robot. Baymax, eyes fixed on nothing but the necklace in his hands, waddled forward, completely oblivious to his oncoming death.

"Baymax!" Tadashi yelled, swerving around a biker, hand out. "Baymax, look out - !"

The robot took another step, the tram rushed onward, and Tadashi felt his heart _stop -_

But Baymax waddled on, and the tram went on, its side missing the robot's white side by what seemed like a hair's breath.

Knees weak with relief, Tadashi mentally thanked whoever it was upstairs who just had saved him from what could have been the destruction of his robotics project, and continued in his chase.

* * *

><p>He finally caught up as Baymax came to a stop in front of a warehouse. "<em>What<em>..." he panted as Baymax turned to look at him. "were you _thinking?_"

"I have found where the microbot wants to go," Baymax said serenely as Tadashi reached over and took away the necklace.

"For the last time, the microbot doesn't want..." Tadashi trailed off as he watched the microbot jerk towards the warehouse doors. Not believing his eyes, he moved the necklace to the side; the microbot jerked and tugged, unerringly, towards the door. "...huh," he said. "You're right. It is moving." _But what's making it move? _Lowering the necklace down over his head, Tadashi extended a hand and placed it on the corrugated metal of the warehouse door.

"Locked," he mused. _I wonder..._ Dropping his hand, he began to scan the warehouse for a way in, eyes brightening as he spotted an open window. "Jackpot." He turned to jog towards it, then stopped as he heard the _squeak-squeak-squeak_ of Baymax behind him. With a sigh, Tadashi turned back around and lifted his hand in a _stop right there _motion.

"You stay here," he told the robot. "I don't think you'll be able to fit in the window."

"Protocol requires that I stay by your side, especially since your health is still compromised." Baymax replied. "The window will not be a problem. I can deflate and decrease the girth of my body when needed."

"No, Baymax, stay -"

"Also, your current height is insufficient to reach the window," the robot interrupted.

Tadashi squinted suspiciously at Baymax, who blinked innocently. Was it just him, or had the robot just... _sassed_ him? Mentally filing away the tidbit under _Things I Really Need to Reconsider About Baymax's Programming_, he let out a resigned sigh and threw up a hand. "Fine," he acquiesced. "Just... try to be a little more quiet."

"I understand."

Muttering under his breath about stupid decisions he had made about Baymax's programming at five AM in the morning while running on coffee fumes, Tadashi spun back around and marched to the window. Baymax toddled along behind him, head tilted as the robot's sensors picked up the words "going crazy," and "complete and utter nonsense."

"There is no need to worry. Recent scans and your medical records tell me that you are clear of any danger of succumbing to insan-"

Tadashi groaned. "Not now, Baymax!"

* * *

><p>The two got inside without much incident - Tadashi had made sure that Baymax had deflated <em>before<em> trying to get in through the window - and Tadashi crept down the metal stairs, cringing at each _clang_ and _squeak_ whenever he or Baymax shifted.

At the ground floor, Tadashi took extra care to scan his surroundings for anything out of the ordinary, hands by his chest in a defensive _kata_ and rotating a full 360 degrees to make sure he didn't miss anything. Off to the side, Baymax watched, staying silent but keeping his eyes fixated on Tadashi.

The warehouse was empty and silent except for several dusty shipping containers and the occasional flutter of a bird. Finding nothing irregular, he relaxed out of his defensive stance and lowered his hands - then snapped them back up and spun around. He'd heard something... There! A small noise, coming from behind several shipping containers, and definitely _not_ the sound of a bird.

On near-silent feet, Tadashi crept closer to the source of the sound; Baymax followed, taking wide steps in order to keep from squeaking. Once at the stack of shipping containers that was blocking his line of sight, Tadashi stuck out his head to peek around the corner, cautiously looking for the source of the noise.

Beyond the shipping container were several semi-transparent partitions that hid whatever the noise had come from. Tadashi could see something moving behind the partitions, but couldn't tell what it was; the material made everything a indistinct blur. Warily, he scooted closer to get a better look, inching along the side of the translucent fabric. Preparing himself for what could potentially be on the other side, he slowly turned around the corner - then stopped, blinking in confusion at what he saw.

There, not too far away from him, was some sort of assembly line, one that was depositing small black objects into a waiting canister that was already filled halfway with the double-ended, metallic things...

Said things were looking increasingly familiar, and Tadashi reached over to pick one up, holding it up to the light - and nearly dropped it in shock. It was a microbot - _one of Hiro's microbots_.

_It_ is _an assembly line, one that mass-produces microbots. Then that means... _Feeling a sense of foreboding, Tadashi bent over the canister and dug his hands in, hoping his hunch was wrong.

It wasn't, and Tadashi felt his heart sink as his hands came up overflowing with microbots. The entire canister was full of them, and the machine was making more each second. How many microbots did that make? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand?

Someone had managed to steal the design for Hiro's microbots, and was mass-producing them. _Hiro's _microbots, that his brother had spent hours over, that Hiro had _died_ for! Tadashi was suddenly struck with a burning anger, and clenched his fists around the microbots, gritting his teeth as he was overwhelmed with the urge to punch the person responsible.

Another sound jerked him out of his thoughts, and Tadashi turned to see Baymax peering into a similar canister, poking a white hand into its contents. The canister looked exactly like the one he was standing in front of, a canister that was just one in the seemingly endless rows of containers that filled the room, lined up from wall to wall and stretching on for as far as the room was long.

Anger forgotten in the face of the sheer number of canisters, Tadashi swept his eyes across the dozens upon dozens of rows, trying to come up with a rough estimate and failing. If each canister held at least thirty thousand microbots, multiplied by the number of canisters that he could _see_...

"No way," he whispered. "What... what's going on? I don't... I don't understand -" But then the air was filled with the familiar sound of clattering, rushing clicks, and the microbots began to rise, one after the other, until there was a high wall of impenetrable darkness, rippling in the half-light like some kind of large creature of the night.

At the top, riding at the crest of the wave of microbots, was a man in a kabuki mask. As Tadashi watched, in shock, the man lifted a hand, and the microbots swirled and in on each other, coiling back like Mochi before the cat pounced -

The black mass sprang up and rushed towards him and Baymax, who was saying in a tranquil voice (one that was _highly inappropriate for the situation at hand_), "Oh, no."

Cursing under his breath, Tadashi turned and _ran_, grabbing Baymax's arm and frantically dragging the robot behind him. He turned to see how far the microbots had come, catching another glimpse of the man, who was perched on a metal walkway, his red and white mask gleaming in the light.

Tadashi wished he could charge the man and punch out his lights for stealing his brother's invention, but the swarm of microbots was getting closer, nearly at his heels, and Baymax _wasn't running!_

"Come on, come on, _come on!_" Tadashi yelped, getting behind Baymax to push the robot forward.

"I am not fast."

"Yeah, _no kidding!_" Tadashi said through gritted teeth. _Yet another thing to add to the list. I_ knew_ I should have taken Baymax out on a field test before finalizing anything... _"You're a medical robot, Baymax! Speed is essential when responding to medical emergencies!"

"I will add that to my database," Baymax replied. "But I am afraid there is not much I can do at this moment to change -"

Tadashi pushed again, effectively cutting the robot off. "Less talking, more running!"

"I am not fa-"

"_I heard you the first time!_"

* * *

><p>At the police station, Tadashi felt a headache throb into existence at the back of his skull. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tadashi explained, for what seemed like the umpteenth time, "I discovered a unregistered assembly line in a warehouse by the docks that someone was using to recreate an invention that is still in its early testing stages. This is an example of the invention," he said, holding up the necklace. He hissed, "Later, Baymax!" and swatted the robot's arm away when he attempted to grab Tadashi's hand.<p>

He'd warded off the robot up to this moment, but Baymax was proving to be _extremely_ stubborn, reaching for Tadashi's hand again. The policeman watched with a bemused air. "I have to check to see if your stitches are intact -"

"Baymax," Tadashi groaned, pushing the robot's arm away. "Just give me a moment, okay?" He turned to face the policeman again. "Along with charges of squatting and illegal robot assembly, this person has violated copyrighted material." At this, Tadashi tapped the crumpled piece of paper he'd placed on the desk. "Those microbots belong to my brother, Hiro Hamada."

The policeman squinted at the microbot and the paper before typing something into his computer. "A Mr. Hero Hamada, did you say?"

"Hiro," Tadashi corrected. "With an _i_, not an _e_."

"Hiro with an _i_," the policeman repeated, backspacing to erase what he wrote and typing _Hiro_. Frowning, the man remarked, facing the screen, "Say, haven't I heard that name somewhere? Something about a fire..."

Tadashi curled his fist, blinking. Darn it, his eyes were burning again. "Probably," he managed. "He was in the fire at the SFIT Showcase."

The policeman stopped typing and glanced at him. "Geez, I'm sorry," he said, looking uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to -"

Shaking his head, Tadashi gave a weak smile. "No, it's fine," he assured. "I just want to make sure to get the guy that stole my brother's invention."

Still looking uncomfortable, the policeman shifted. "Look, kid," he began. "I'll file a report, but I can't promise anything. The SFPD is busy enough as it is with the bot-fighting circles, and well," the policeman shrugged. "There's a high chance your request will be pushed back."

_But by that time - !_ Tadashi swallowed the budding protest and nodded. The SFPD was busy, and worked hard. It wasn't anyone's fault; it was just the way things were.

Seeing the look on his face, the policeman took pity on him, pulling out a clipboard and a pen and placing them in front of him. "Tell you what - write down your phone number - cellphone or home phone, either's fine - and I'll call you the moment the SFPD finds anything, alright?"

"Thank you," Tadashi said, scribbling down his cellphone number and the number of the Lucky Cat Café. He wrote _Tadashi Hamada_ after the former and _Lucky Cat Café_ after the latter. "Just ask for Tadashi."

"Sure thing," the policeman said, printing out the document he'd been typing and placing it in the stack of what Tadashi assumed was more cases. He seemed to be considering something for a moment, then said, awkwardly, "And for what it's worth, kid, I'm sorry about your brother. Heard he was a genius, too."

_He was_. His throat grew tight, choking any words he might have said; Tadashi just nodded, turning to leave... And ran face-first into an inflated chest.

Baymax looked down at him, blinked, then took two steps back. "I will scan you now," the robot said, and Tadashi rolled his eyes, holding out his hands for the scan.

Finished, Baymax said, "You have not torn any stitches. However, the skin has become inflamed. I advise that you apply medicinal cream imme- immedia- diaaa- " the robot's voice slowed, and Baymax slouched forward on an alarmed Tadashi.

"Baymax, what's going on?" He said, panicking slightly. Had he missed something in the test runs? Why was Baymax -

The robot answered his question for him. "Low baaaaattery," he drawled.

Tadashi pinched the bridge of his nose. _Of course, he has to run out of battery_ now_, out of all times..._"Remind me to extend your battery life, Baymax." He slung the robot's arm over his shoulder. "Come on, buddy, let's get you back to your charging station." But first, they had to go get his moped; charging Baymax would have to wait.

...And since when had Baymax started sounding drunk when low on battery?

"You kicked the _door_ down!"

Biting back a groan, Tadashi just nodded. "Uh-huh. But _shh!_ Keep that between us, okay, buddy?" _Those upgrades I've been thinking of are sounding better by the minute._

"_Shh!_"

* * *

><p>AN: ...And here's the second chapter of _Picture Me Without You_. Last I checked, it was close to 8,000 words... you're welcome, I guess. This chapter kind of felt like I was pulling teeth at some points.

If you cried while reading this chapter, you're not the only one; my beta cried when she first read it, and even I was tearing up at moments. If you didn't cry, then, well.. kudos? I dunno.

Chapter three is in progress and on its way as we speak (read).

Like I mentioned before, this is a Twin-fic to **New and Old's** _So Much More. _It is recommended that you read her chapter two directly after reading my chapter two in order to incorporate the maximum number of feels.

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading; please review :D

(Oh, and one more thing: the name of the fic and the chapter titles were inspired by Fall Out Boy's _Immortals _and Bastille's _Things We Lost to the Fire._)


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